Tuesday, November 4

.time with my violin reflecting my loved one.

spend some time
with me and the violin.
with words and notes,
with tongues and fingers,
with eyes and skin.

with you gracefully,
with sounds and melodies,
with warmth and sensitivity,
with the deep stare,
the longing of my heart racing.

with nothing but the saddened smile of the moon
with dim light kissing the ocean while cradling
with mother of pearl foam on our face spitting
for time is a small death if I don't see thee soon

and nothing but the blazing sun,
the only comfort is the trickle of a stream
to cool down my burning desire,
I wish to come to my love this day.

yet as the day progress in it`s maturity,
I find myself dying like the wilting flower in the field.
hanging my head wishing for the comfort of rain.
Do come hastily, treading on the dry ground,
to find they comfort consumed by myself.

Come, scream, lonesome beam
strings of violins pierce my loins,
but I offer thee my spleen, while my heart groans
yet I find rest in the breast of the moon

I will sing to the moon,
my lonesome song of tradgedy,
my piercing song of sorrow,
to find in it only the zest of my desire.

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